Acrid Morning

a taste of puke in my mouth
acrid day, the windows oath
swollen eyes, a fly on my bed,
this winged visitor sings i'm dead

reminding hours of desperate nights
cowering in cries neath ash-tree lights

desolated hours, letter filled street
where aborted words denied my need
can't bear to see your glasstube smiles
knowing your compassion and consolation belies

reminding hours of desperate nights
cowering in cries neath ash-tree lights

knowing which acinus are fatal
when colloquys around are so dull
yesterdays men, speaking today
affirming their words, leading my way

pictures so dreadful mirror insleep
nausea mumbling, derision to reap
mundane insect dies in my hand
it's song was right, i missed the end